Love, Bassy Part 3

Hey sis,

I was late for work this morning so I put on basically what I could find. 

 

The reason I was late for work was because I went to a late party. 

I got to the host, Bianca Rubble’s, apartment building at about a quarter to eight. 

Bianca had called for formal attire, but I couldn’t see myself showing up in a suit and tie for a house party so I threw on this casual outfit. 

 

I located the party’s host, Bianca Rubble.  She’s actually pretty cute, if her … assets … could hold her up.  I swear, every woman in this town seems to have had something done to them surgically.

“Who’s he?” I asked her, rather bemusedly.  “He looks kind of … I don’t know … creepy.”

Bianca laughed.  “He’s Beau Merrick.  He’s a vampire.”

A… what?  What did you say?

“He’s a vampire.”

“No, I mean the way you say that.  Like that’s a regular thing.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a vampire.”

“On TV and the movies, but no, never in person.”

“Hey,” Bianca whispered, “where are you from anyway?  I’ve never seen you before in these parts.”

I gulped.  “Sunset Valley.”

“That explains it!”   Bianca turned to her fellow partygoer who'd wandered in on the conversation and gave him 'that' look. The one that said..... 'country bumpkin - ignorant and stupid'
She whispered loudly... “They're a sheltered lot.... you know,” which made me go beet red.

I looked over at Beau in awe.  He was a vampire … but he was dancing to kids music!  Nothing and no one else mattered.  I saw that look before.

From dad. 

So, trying to keep him from noticing me, I tried a few steps myself.  Luckily, I think it worked. 

I left Bianca’s apartment building at one-thirty in the morning, and didn’t get back to my apartment until about three.  Coupled with the fact that I had to get up at 11 to go to the studio, and, well, that’s why I was late. 

Oh, one more person I want you to ‘meet.’  My boss, Ms. Kristin Verhoeven.

Ms. Verhoeven works under Alan Stanley, the studio boss, and the production manager, Tiara Angelista, and she’s in charge of the students and the movie I’m in.  She moved here awhile back.

It’s an open secret in Bridgeport that she’s a lesbian.  I’ve heard she’s quirky in other ways, too.  I don’t know her that well yet but I’m going to need to, given that she is my boss. 

Oh well, I have to finish the assignment Ms. Verhoeven gave me.  It’s a book called “How to Get Noticed Without Being Seen.”  She told me it’s standard fare for beginning actors.  Talk more soon.

Love, Bassy

Love, Bassy Part 2

Hey sis,

Bridgeport at night is a beautiful place. It seems to come to life after the drab cloudy days. Although there are times when I do miss the beach. I don't think I've seen the sun since I got here.

Would you believe mom showed up? Yeah, she came with some things to help me decorate my apartment. In the dead of night. She had to, if she came during the day she'd be found out and my cover would be totally blown.

All the bars look the same, I can never remember which bar is which. The bouncers stand at the door and you have to ask them to get in.

I took a stab at performing bass at this one club. They still don't know who I am yet. I think I like it like that -- for now.

Love, Bassy

Love, Bassy Day 1

Hey sis, it’s me.

It’s a chilly, gray morning in Bridgeport. Come to think of it, most mornings in Bridgeport are chilly and gray. And everything here is so... tall.

Above is a picture of my new workplace. It’s the Plumbob Pictures backlot. Get it, Plumb Bob?

Although when I got there this morning I was referred to as “the kid with the fruit name.”

“He came in this morning,” director Alan Stanley said, “I don’t know who he is, name is Peach, Pear –“

“It’s Plumb,” I told him. “Like the name of the studio.”

“Oh,” he said, giving me a small sideways grin.

When I’m not in class or studying, I’m checking out Bridgeport’s um, vibrant, nightlife. I have to admit the nightlife was the town’s main appeal for me. That and the fact that nobody knows who I am here. Yet.

I crashed Lilly-Bo’s house party last night. I have no idea who she is, only that she has a hip bachelorette pad.

It doesn’t help that the women here are… well, well-endowed. Like the blond in the pink dress. Kind of looks like a Barbie doll.

I even have my own paparazzi guy following me around. It’s actually kind of creepy.

Here I am studying my acting book with a view from my penthouse apartment. Well, gotta go,

Love, Bassy

The more things change...

The more things change around here, the more they stay the same.

"Oh, princess," dad called, frail and unsteady. After bestowing two cheek kisses, he went on to the theater which now bears his name.

Next out was my brother, broad-shouldered and true. I decided to go and help him with his bags. There's a part of me that still can't believe he's going through with this. But, he is a Plumb. Once we make up our minds to do things, it's hard to get us not to do them.

"So, this is it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"What about the baby?"

"The baby isn't mine."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank Llama.
"Write to me, eh?"

"You know I will, sis."

"Come here and give me a hug."

You know he listened to me, right. He just 'had' to.

I watched him drive off in his new car and tried to hold back tears.

Entente

T minus one week until my brother goes off to acting school in Bridgeport and he's spending his days playing GTA San Andreas on the computer. Ahhh, boys will be boys, right.
Speaking of boys I've got my own boy issues. Sety wants to learn how to drive. What fun. And get this -- Cheesebum has volunteered to teach him.

Mom and I have come to a mutual entente. We basically stay the heck out of each other's way now. Although she did call the other day to complain about her baby going all the way down the coast. "Mom, he's a grown man now," I told her, "he can do what he wants."

I reminded her that we're still awaiting DNA test results that could throw all of this into a tizzy. I have told Bassy that if this baby is his he has got to take responsibility for it. I am not about to raise another child -- I'm raising 4 of my own.

Yes, four. That includes my newest daughter, Sage-blossom (yes that's her full name) Margaret Plumb. Cheesebutt has spoiled this one to pieces already, and I think she's way prettier than I am, lol. She's also very girly, the complete opposite of me.

Bassy's Future and some Noah stuff

Bassy is going to film school in Bridgeport. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
I saw him open up the acceptance letter like a kid opening up a present on Christmas morning, and he ran through the house screaming.
I have a feeling, though, that he's gonna be a damn fine actor.
I'm not entirely sure what prompted him to pursue this path, but he seems dead set on it. Thing about us Plumbs is, when we set our minds to do something, it's hard to get any of us to steer away from it. And, more often than not, if we do something we tend to become good at it.

I'm not sure how much sense it makes that he's going to become an actor. He didn't give any indication that this was the path he was going to pursue, other than his role in the school play as Romeo in Romeo and Juliet.
There's some other stuff, too, concerning my dear youngest brother. Remember the photographer I hired to take pics of the family? I still believe, despite Bassy's protestations to the contrary, that he did sleep with her. Now I'm hearing rumors that could back up my suspicions. Ms. Ward is now telling people that she's pregnant -- and that Bassy is the father. C'mon, Bassy isn't ready to be a dad. Seriously. Bassy's barely ready to be an adult. Kid still has his patterned underoos.
So, I've asked Ms. Ward to take a DNA test. I need proof. When you're as famous a family as we are, any gold digger will come out of the woodwork and say she's carrying our seed.
On that front, I've discovered there are 25 original musical compositions at City Hall registered under the name of Noah Henry Plumb, who, by the way, is the current conductor of the Sunset Valley Orchestra. They're not remixes of Dad's songs, they're Noah's original ones. I haven't heard these songs, but I've heard his style described as a mix of classical and electronica. Whatever that means. I'm also told that there are even more compositions he hasn't officially published. Sounds a lot like Dad, who only officially published a fraction of the songs he actually wrote. Dad's written about 300 songs and City Hall only has records of about 50 of them.

Oh and guess who registered Noah's songs? In typical Plumb fashion, not Noah. The copyright papers were signed by my sister-in-law, Sadie Alvi Plumb.